Alright, Still
by junkienicky
Summary: Nicky finds herself drunk, coming home late after a night out drinking with Alex and Piper. Lorna's not impressed, especially for not answering her calls.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own OITNB or its characters.

 **Author's Note:** First of all, thank you for the reviews/comments on here, AO3 and Tumblr on my previous fics. I'm really pleased you enjoyed them, and it's motivated me to write more. I want to apologize that this isn't great, I found myself rushing towards the end to get it completed. Our Sunsets remains my best work, and it probably will for some time. Although, I hope you enjoy this! Feedback would be greatly appreciated.

 **Sent to:** Nicky

honey its almost 1am for god sake, i'm real worried. You better not be doing no drugs or getting no tattoos youll regret or nothing embarrassing. You got work tomorrow remember an don't think I'll be driving or covering to red for you if your all in a state. Call me back please. L x

 **Received:** _12:47AM_

* * *

Lorna slams her phone down on the coffee table and sighs deeply, running a hand across the smooth, bumped skin of her abdomen. So that's an indication that Lorna is mad at Nicky, and that's a rare occasion. For her to be specifically mad at her. Inconveniently, it didn't help warn down the guilt floating around her conscience when it's apparent that Nicky's been quite literally exceptional these past months when it comes to painting rooms, shifting boxes and general DIY around their new apartment, just on the outskirts of Queens. Even when it comes to the trivial things like offering to clean and dry the dishes, run her baths and give her massages before she drifts off to sleep in the bed they share, or couch before they even make it there. Lorna admires it constantly, and sometimes thinks about it in a constant loop around her mind. It makes her look silly at times; when she's out and about with random smirks and smiles sneaking up on her, or even when she's just sat around the house. It makes her feel like she's in one of those stupidly cute 'I'm so in love' 80s pop music videos. Red often pokes fun, much to Nicky's slight embarrassment.

 _"Jesus, look at the two of you. If only Dmitri would ever купите мне розы."_ She'd cackle, darting her eyes towards her ex-husbands direction from behind the counter, only for him to yatter in impersonation. _"Leave it out, ma."_ Nicky would huff as the chef would lean over to pinch the younger woman's cheek.

Lorna would never trade away that feeling if it were the only resort to revive humanity. Never let herself fall from grace in the antithetical way she fell for the stone-cold, super snarky woman whom she has the privilege of sharing a life with. Their dog, Lexi, watches in curiosity from the other side of the room on the far corner of the couch; tail wagging and panting heavily, with her tongue out like an average behaving one-year old dog. Of course, Lorna picked out the name, regardless that Nicky had argued that it doesn't make her sound _"tough."_

* * *

 _"What we gonna do if we get burgled, huh? Come on Lexi! Attack! Bite 'em in the nuts! Sick fuck would probably just fucking laugh."_ Nicky exclaims, rubbing the dog's belly as she rolls around on the steps to their apartment. Panting and practically smiling at the two; baring her teeth. _"Don't shame her, the name suits her. Look – she's so cute, rolling on her belly. She can be like a big sister to our baby."_ Lorna says, cooing as she strokes at the dog's fur. Maybe it's the overwhelming warmness, or happiness she finds in having a pet she never had the chance to grow up with as a child, that makes her feel as excited as a four-year-old in a princess dress at a party. _"Babe, that name doesn't suit her breed, I mean, look at her. She deserves something more wild. Snappy."_

 _"Don't be racist."_

 _"Lorna, what the fuck?"_ She chokes. Shaking her head to disregard the comment. _"Anyway, what're we gonna do when she's on heat, huh? You wanna deal with her trying to hump every dog in plain sight on dog walks? Nah, man."_

 _"We can get her sprayed."_ Lorna giggles, before being interrupted. _"Hey, is that the dog you found?"_ An all too familiar voice sounds. Vinnie crouches to pet the dog with a spare hand – a coffee cup and his phone clutched in the other. _"Yeah. We're just tryna come up with a name, aren't we missy?"_ Nicky licks the inside of her cheek. _"I'm, uh, just trying to convince her that Lexi isn't the right kind of name for this dog."_

 _"Nah, she's right."_ He states, pulling his sunglasses up to his forehead to examine her. _"My pa had a dog like her, real big he was. The dog, not my pa. Think he called him Rooster, or somethin' like that. Don't really remember 'cause he died real young, yeah, pa would open the car windows real wide the first summer we got him. Used to go down the highways a lot, only he uh, would jump out the windows sometimes to chase a fox or a rabbit on the side of the road. Yeah he got hit by a car. Real bad."_ Nicky grins awkwardly. _"Sucks."_ She claims, nodding and disinterested _._ Vinnie and Lorna continue to natter and giggle leaving her to glance down at the dog, sat on her fours. Cocking an eyebrow as she looks back up to her; she chips in. _"Yeah. Lexi sounds great, Lorna. S'call her Lexi."_

* * *

She's a German Shepard, found abandoned on the corner of the street away from Red's newly reopened café, Galina's. Lorna didn't exactly have to beg Nicky to adopt her, because frankly, Nicky too was quite overtaken by her adorableness and fluffy matted fur and those big bold eyes. And so, you can imagine it didn't take much convincing... She's a much-loved pet and _"part of the family"_ as Red puts it. Well, as long as she doesn't piss on the living room rug or bring a trail of mood into _Galina's_ , which they would certainly be forced to mop up. _"You'll kick her ass when she gets in for me, if I'm not awake, won't you Lex?"_ Lorna is met with the response of a small growl. _"An stop leavin' your fur all over the couch, will you. That shit is a nightmare to clean up, you know."_ Lexi just pants and wags her tail rapidly, a cute thing Nicky values about the adored pet when having random conversations with - to which Lorna often observes from a distance sometimes. They'd talk about what pizza topping is greatly underappreciated, and which is a total crime against nature. Lorna would chip in to argue margarita or ham and pineapple being the worst, although Nicky would defend the two, to her great offence.

* * *

 _"What?! No fuckin' way. Margarita? Really?! Lorna you're Italian. That's practically blasphemy. And ham and pineapple totally deserve justice, the sweetness of flavor is what makes it taste so fucking great. Tell her, Lexi."_

But as of right now; she's pissed.

 _'Why can't she give me a simple call to let me know where she is - or better yet, safe? What's so fucking hard about reassurance for your significant other?'_

It doesn't go past her that she's feeling slightly guilty of compulsion. Although, pressing through her thoughts as she twirls the silver metal band around her ring finger; she reminds herself that she has every single minor reason to be anxious.

* * *

 _"I am totally no-ot wasted, like I mean c'mon, you ask me how mA-ny fuckin' fingers you're holding up and I tell you. Basic math."_ Laughing hysterically and hiccuping on her words, Nicky purses her lips in an attempt to keep her diaphragm tamed. If there's one thing that's her pet peeve, it's hiccups. _"Yeah, I wouldn't be too particularly confident with that answer, Nichols. I held up five, you said four. You scored zero on your one-question test, congratulations."_ Alex chuckles from across the table, opposite her blonde friend. Her wife is seated next to her in the rowdy bar they had stumbled across in town. It's not like they were searching for anywhere in particular, after all, Nichols protested that she _"just wants a drink"_ and neither of the two were really up for suggesting some place otherwise. _"Think maybe we should have gone to like a club instead? Having drinks in a bar full of middle-aged drunk men isn't exactly what I had in mind when we said we'd get together for a few drinks. I'm pretty sure this is the bar Larry came to when he got his article published in the New York Times, and Pete had to be dragged to the hospital when Polly's waters broke."_ Piper scans the room with her eyes and focuses on an overly enthusiastic game of darts in progress. The atmosphere was enjoyable, to say the least, yet still somewhat irking her. _"Piper, we are middle aged. We're married, one of us is having a kid. Pretty sure we all have high cholesterol and one of us is getting grey soon. Hardly think any of us qualify for clubbing right now. Especially light weight over here. And can we not talk about Larry?"_ She gestures towards Nicky's slumbering state then rolls up her sleeve, Piper just shrugs in response; a smirk participant. _"Ey, fuck you, Vause, I have be-en consuming alcoh-ol since my mom's nightly martinis while I was swimming in the wo-mb. And yeah, let's not talk about Jerry. I already put up with fuckin' Vinny."_

 _"Larry."_ Piper corrects. _"Consuming it, maybe. But that still doesn't classify as handling. Surprised you haven't smashed anymore glasses than the ones you already have."_ It's something Nicky cringes at while thinking back to her alcohol consumption in a sober state. It's like scrubbing charcoal from her soul, even though that wouldn't leave it looking any polished... She'd steal Marka's liquor while she was out shopping, or up to other family affairs that Nicky was too _"young"_ to be involved in. Not like that even concluded in any pocked-sized difference. From a youthful age, Nicky identified that she'd always seize straightforward opportunities to dismiss her mother's scowls, commands, and shitty so-called 'life lessons'; while also identifying that Marka either was too socially handled to notice, or too self-inflicted and prominent to formally act upon her daughter's misbehavior. And so, the one-off downing too many shots of tequila and hitting it off with undistinguished, and stale-like snobby girls, that not even Nicky now would remotely approach... Increasingly became a not-so-one-off thing. And that became a repeating cycle. Until she got addicted.

And it didn't help that her mind immediately cast back to those ugly scenes. It's no secret that Nicky is overly ashamed and typically self-conscious about particularly most of her past, morally. Everyone in close contact know by instant to not talk about it, or make light conversation. It was their best intentions, and Nicky warmly understood that in appreciation for their loving considerations. However, it was just not a topic to be discussed; a no-go-there zone. Nicky always appreciates it. But that doesn't stop the shame tiding in; punching her in the gut with that stone cold sober like feeling of blindly jogging along and smashing your forehead straight into a lamppost. _"Man, the glasses were an accident, alri-ght? No need to be embarrassed about it, I cleaned it u-up..."_ She mutters, slumping her shoulders as she slides her fingertips along the shape of the half-empty glass that her hand's cupped around. It sticks to the coaster and the table from where the spillage incident occurred. Alex obviously notices the shift in enthusiasm and she can easily emphasize with the woman directly mirroring her; she's had her fair share of drunken nights and easily comprehends it relatively. Piper inhales, rolls her shoulders and feels the sudden urge to ask if she's well. Are you feeling stressed? Are you ill? Is everything alright with Red, Lorna, the house? Are you having urges - like, you know, drugs...? Each question passes her mind, although she manages to submissively dismiss them by carefully biting on the inside of her cheek. Probably wise. There's a slight awkward silence that most likely wouldn't go unnoticed if Alex didn't productivity chip in to change the subject matter that was obviously hanging on everyone's mine. _"I wonder why Lorna didn't wanna come? We haven't seen her for a while. Like - properly. Unless it's at Galina's."_

 _"Eh, she's busy, constructing all her lines for this new one-woman play she's in. Yeah, it's called Playing The Productive House Wife. Really takes you back to those good 'ol traditional gender roles. I mean, obviously, in this scene, or scenario, she wanted to play house and do like uh... I don't know, the laundry at my best guess. Killer role, huh?"_ Nicky slurs and clutches the glass in her palm as she takes an uncomfortably long sip. There's a tiny small relief that her hiccups were put to rest and she can finally manage to spew out a full sentence. Piper shifts in her seat awkwardly. _"I don't know, man. I tried to convince her. I mean, yeah, she's pregnant but she's hardly a fucking drinker anyway. Not like she'd be missing out on much."_

When Nicky had full frontal suggested the little get-together plan, naturally Lorna didn't seem too keen. And when Nicky had stated she's go without her, she appeared more skeptical and pessimistic, than encouraging. In the long run, alcohol and Nicky isn't a combination Lorna likes the sound of. The thought just wasn't appealing and Nicky had gathered in summary that it's plausible that she's mostly just bitter about the fact that she made it clear she'll go without her regardless. It was hard to pin point what was going on with Lorna, in Nicky's mind. She couldn't differentiate if it was just her being a sour lemon, or her acting up hormones making her so skeptically pedantic as of late. She'd sit there, grinding her teeth trying to figure it out; the map of her mind that she's constantly sketching never ending junctions to it - which Nicky quite often finds herself lost in. She tells herself it's not going to ruin her night, but the vines of anxious paranoia continue to slither around the back of her mind like an everlasting, unforgettable concern.

 _"Fuck. My phone's dead. What time is it?"_ Nicky slurps out, directing the question to either of the two, pushing her phone back into her leather jacket pocket and zipping it up securely while it looks like she starts to piece herself together. _"Nearly one-fifteen."_ Piper answers, glancing down at her wrist watch. _"Why? Does baby-mommy need to get home and rub her wifey's feet?"_ Alex asks rhetorically, cocking an eyebrow with a devious grin. Nicky squints in obvious disgust, pulling her mouth in a peculiar shape. _"Ugh. Don't. Last fuckin' thought I need is the forbidden flashback of me walking in on my uncle Ray rubbing up my cunt-of-a-mom's toes in plain view, like, they weren't even fucking hiding it. Feet are a no go. It's fucking disgusting, alright, Vause? Don't even say feet. And for your information, I'm gonna go home and ask my fiancée why she's acting all wired up. Then lick her tits afterwards."_ Piper scowls in revolt as the three lift from their chairs, making their way towards the exit. _"Okay - you're disgusting."_ She exclaims, only to be met with the typical _'yeah, but you love me'_ tongue-between-her-teeth grin in response.

Upon leaving, it's Alex's idea to get Nicky into a yellow taxi, in order for her to actually arrive home. Of course, Nicky protests that she'd rather walk, practically tripping over her own shoe laces mid-sentence, almost. Alex feels like she's the only one who can hear Nicky's rambling in her drunken state; unsure if it's to either of the two or just herself. Parts of dialogue arguing about a squirrel side-eyeing her, to which leads Alex forcing herself to restrain the laughter from almost bursting out as they wait by a road for a taxi to pass. _"Jesus. You wouldn't think out of us three, she's the one that's gonna be a parent soon, would you?"_ She asks Piper, observing Nicky's gestures as she crouches down to the ground quietly muttering _"is that a dollar...?"_

 _"Nicky what're you doing?"_ Piper questions, partially bemused, partially concerned. _"Mmh, doin' my shoelaces."_ She terribly lies to obviously coat over the fact that her drowsiness had overcome her stomach's capability. _"If you're gonna be sick just get it over with. We're all adults, you're a little stressed, we get that. We won't judge, no one's gonna upload any embarrassing photos to Facebook."_ It's an odd combination of gratitude Piper always seems to be the first one to offer. It adds another layered feeling of fuzziness to Nicky's belly, along with an ounce of slight frustration. Piper is a great friend. A friend that never quite knows when to give in. _"Mmfine."_ Another lie. Alex sighs in motion. Nicky somehow manages to refrain from puking and pulls up from her knees as a taxi swerves around the corner. Luckily, with reassurance, they convince the driver she'll maintain and not be sick. The driver grumbling something in response when Piper gives him the directions to Nicky's home. She feels like a child, and it's certainly not a soothing feeling. After brief farewells, she's left with her head hung back staring at the roof of the cab. Listening to little patters of raindrops hit the roof; turning her head she changes her focus to the window. Watching those little and large droplets stream down the glass pane and invert between other drops in some weird puzzle. The blurry glow of city lights behind the condensation forcing her eyes to squint slightly, reinforcing the already pounding sensation at the back of her mind. Premonitions of isolation began to flood the weak, unoccupied part of her brain. It's like a sunken feeling that creates a tenser feeling in her limbs and legs as she shifts uncomfortably in the cold passenger seat. It's apparent each time the cab's tires pass a ridge or small pot hole in the road. She doesn't feel miserable, or confused, or pissed of, or just blatantly like crap because of her state. It's just mutual. She gets like that sometimes.

Fishing out spare cash from the pocket of her worn out jacket, assuming probably thirty dollars should certainly be more than enough, she throws the driver a handful of notes, murmuring a thank you and not bothering to wait to receive change. She exits the cab and weakly slams the car door shut and drags her feet along the wet concrete, relying on them to get her those few final steps to her apartment. She wasn't sick in the taxi. That some achievement, right? Pushing her way through the doorway, Nicky brings a hand to rub the side of her forehead when Lexi boisterously barks, trotting towards the hallway. It's almost like having pinballs pushed through her cranium. _"Shush. Yeah, yeah. Love you too great ta see ya, but get back in your basket 'cause Nichols needs ta lie down and you might wake the fiancée up."_ She hushes in a whispery, husky tone; bending down to pet the dog then tugs at her doc martens, pulling the laces apart. Only she feels her heart sink to her feet and little shivers running up her arms when the hallway light flicks on after only managing to undo the first lace on her left foot. She turns cautiously to face the figure with her arms tightly crossed again her chest, in a silk, red gown. Nicky clearly her throat, a hand covering the part of her chest that her heart radically thumps against. _"Jesus fuck... Christ. You scared the shit outta me. Babe, I had a decease in my valve, you can't do that shit man."_ She groans approaching the smaller woman, attempting to lean in and peck her quickly on the lips; she's instantly cut off when the reek of alcohol floats under Lorna's nose. _"How many drinks you had?"_ Lorna asks sternly, peering at the woman only a few inches away. Nicky scans through her mind, giving up half way through. Who has time to keep count? _"Uhh.. I dunno, like seven or eight, I guess? Why you still awake? you should be resting, Lorna."_ She resentfully restrains herself to not give into her sweet-talk, in that devouring whisper that always wraps her up in that warm and secured sensation. "Right, and it's what? Quarter to two in the morning? I didn't even get call or text to know where you are?" And now she's raising her voice; Nicky frowns when she notices the brunette reading her scornfully. Sighing loudly, Nicky sways her way towards the leather couch in the living room with Lorna and Lexi following close behind. She slumps down, swinging her arm back to rest her head. Nicky knows what's coming, but she hadn't anticipated or prepared for it, to say the least. They never argue. At least, not since they were in Litchfield. Lorna was barely ever mad at her, so now she's trying to think of which straws she must've pulled for making her so. She exhales louder than usual, still noticing Lorna stood there in the corner of her eye; arms still folded with peering eyes. _"Well, I would've, but my phone died, alright?"_ She pulls it out her coat and drops it on the coffee table beside Lorna's, whilst retrieving a cigarette and a lighter from her pocket at the same time. _"So, you couldn't ask to borrow Piper or Alex's phone to call me?"_ Nicky lifts herself up and leans forward on the couch; sighing again as she takes her jacket off and throws it to the other side of the couch. Nicky hates arguing. Not because she's not good at it. If there's any high school debate that would be forking out new members to take up the stance, they'd always attempt to recruit Nicky. It's no secret that Nicky has a quick-thinking, savvy mouth. Of course, that usually ended up with her in detention, in more shit with her mother, or in the back of police cars. Another slap on the head from Red. Although, strangely enough, it's still a trait she values in herself. Whereas, she still loathes it because she can easily tell that she'll say something that will most likely end in tears. Nicky slides the folded paper in between her lips, cups her hand and it glows up as she lights the head of the spliff. Taking a quick drag, she responds, _"Yeah, well, I'm home now. Mm'good, so, it doesn't matter."_ Lorna is fast to rashly change the subject. _"I thought you were quitting?"_ She interrogates firmly; still peering upon the woman, analyzing her features in a form to estimate how drunk she was. Lorna's met with the mumble of something coherently, which sounds like a combination of _"I am"_ and _"I'm trying."_ Nicky crouches forward further. Twirling the thin, rolled up paper between her thumb and index finger while she gazes at the fallen ash, smoking and silently sizzling in the tray to her right before bringing it to her lips to take another, longer drag. _"You gonna stand there and eyeball me all night?"_ Raising her ring finger to rub the inside of her ear, as she avoids eye contact. _"So what, I don't even get no apology? And it's morning, Nicky. Fucking morning. Maybe I would be resting if I wasn't up worried about you getting sploshed."_

 _'And we're off.'_ Is the first thing to spring to Nicky's mind.

 _"Sploshed? Sloshed?"_ Lorna tuts at Nicky, unfolding her arms as she raises her voice again. _"I don't fucking care which one, Nicky. I ain't in the mood for this shit."_ Nicky laughs, falsely, then burns out the cigarette before slumping back against the couch, rubbing the side of her face. _"Oh yeah, I had a great time out, by the way. With our friends. Yeah ours. Not that they fucking see much of you these days, since you're so busy 'an all."_ She grumbles, grinding her teeth to try and conceal her rising frustration, that builds up alongside Lorna's tone of voice. _"I'm fucking pregnant. I'm tired, and I've got work. You've got work tomorrow too which you'll obviously be missing. So what do I tell Red this time, huh? That you're hungover? That you left me home worried, even though you told me you'd give me a call?"_

 _"Oh Jesus Christ, just fucking leave it out. Yes I told you I'd call, sorry I let that slip but it's not worth fucking arguing about. What're you gonna do next? Ask me who I was with? Just so you know for sure? Where we went? What we did?"_ Lorna approaches closer, looking as if she's on the brink of tears. Nicky huffs and runs a hand through her lugs before rubbing at her eyes, closing herself off from the conversation she obviously wasn't interested in participating in. _"You told be you'd be home by eleven."_ She states, seething slightly through her words to stop herself from crying. In all honesty, when Nicky witnesses her like this, it's like observing a child sulking, rather than a mother-to-be. She'd be amused if she wasn't feeling like shit, Lorna would warn off, and the pounding sensation in her head would simmer down. _"Really? That's what this is about? Jesus, kid."_ Nicky shakes her head and rubs the back of her neck in disbelief. _"I am sorry I was not home by eleven, okay? Can we just fucking go to bed now?"_ She asks slowly, making every word in its form explicitly clear. Lorna, however, only finds it more insulting. She rejects her arguably winning point as to why she's most specifically pissed off. _"You know what? Fuck you. I can't be dealing with this shit, Nicky. I don't fucking care how wasted you are. Fuck this. You're fucked up. You're so unbelievably-"_

 _"Fucked up at what? Life? My relationship with my parents? My relationship with you? Drugs? Because of, uh, my childhood? My addiction? Prison? Huh, what? You can say it."_ Nicky expresses, cutting Lorna off mid-sentence. She openly smiles and laughs shakily, licking her bottom lip then bites fiercely at it. Her toes curl in her socks, and she finds her fingernails digging deep into the skin of her elbow as she grips her left arm tightly. The blood starts to boil in her veins and she inhales sharply, flaring her nostrils and not waiting for Lorna to reply. In fact, she couldn't care at this very instant. _"You fuckin' made this decision, you know."_ Nicky sourly laughs, forcing it out her throat while she can feel water prickle the back of her eyeballs. _"Nobody uhh, forced you to get divorced then crawl back to me and move in, you know. You didn't have to say you'll marry me if that's not really what you want, I mean, who can fucking tell, right? You know, you're so far up your shit-storm of delusions, no one can ever really tell. Well hey, you know, if this isn't the fantasy life you wanted or, you know, I'm too uh, snarky, unsatisfactory, or just not enough to keep you maintained to your exceptional standards, you could always, I dunno. Go back to sucking dicks of poor bastards that wanted to get away from you."_ She stammers weakly, and as soon as she instinctively notices Lorna register her choice of words, of course, she immediately regrets letting them slip out. She wants to bite her own tongue off, pull her own hair strands out.

 _'Why the fuck would you say that?!'_

Lorna's face is white as a sheet and looks as if she's been slapped. The pain of the words obviously dissolving in her eyes and Nicky feels as if she's been shot in the heart. That's her problem. She always was someone too little for her own mouth. Pulling herself up from the couch, she softens her features, an indication that's she's as relatively hurt by her own comments as much as her. _"You fucking kidding me?"_ Nicky sighs resentfully. _"Look, come on. I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry."_ Although, it's not enough and Lorna backs away. She stomps out the room and towards the stairs, Nicky follows quickly behind only to wait at the bottom and watch Lorna march up each step. _"Fine. You want me to do that? I will. An' you can go back to shooting heroin in your veins and snorting crack or whatever shit you do!"_ Lorna claps back, before the tears form and swell down. Nicky furrows her brows, glancing up the stairs in sorrow while she lifts an arm for gesture to come down, then quickly brings it back. A pitiful and useless attempt. _"Smoke... Crack. Y'can't... Y'can't snort it."_ She murmurs; at first to Lorna, then to herself once she hears the slam of the bedroom door.

 _'Congratulations, Nichols. You well and truly fucked this up. Hey, go get yourself a free mug. You deserve it, kid. Fuckin' genius.'_

She glances over to Lexi with her head in her basket before plummeting down on the couch; once again, to drown in her own misery. Lexi climbs out to scare-sly exit the room and climb the stairs, probably to locate Lorna. Nicky huffs, knowing she deserves to be isolated in her own chain reaction of thoughts. After sticking her phone on charge, Nicky turns to her side; pulling the thin blanket that drapes over the side to cover herself up in. She reaches to switch the lamp off and sniffles in the thin layer she curls up in. Varies questions she can't help wondering spring to mind before she fully drifts off to sleep.

 _'Why is she so mad? And childish? Why am I a complete dick? Why do I feel like I wanna fucking kill myself? Apologise. Fuck you. Why can't she apologise. Fuck this. Fuck that. Just go to fucking sleep. She'll be fine tomorrow. Probably just sulking in her pillow, or watching Titanic or some shit. Yeah. No. Don't count on that, sunshine. You hurt her. Yeah, well, she hurt me. This fucking sucks. Excellent job, Icarus.'_

* * *

It's the ever glow of her iPhone that illuminates the room that wakes her up, like some kind of shitty invasion Nicky feels like she's hallucinating when the light snaps at her eyes. Reaching a hand from within the blanket, she pulls it from the charging cord; wincing and squinting her eyes as she forces herself to focus on the message notification.

* * *

 **Received from:** Vinny

just say your sorry idk. She'll come round. Probably? Idk you know her more than me

 **Sent:** _4:24AM_

* * *

 _'This fuckin' guy.'_

Nicky sucks her teeth, before plopping her phone down to the couch before she figures that Lorna probably called or texted him. It's not that she doesn't like the guy. She just doesn't like the guy. It's a lesbian thing. Although, she will openly confess how she deeply admires the fact that he didn't just hike out into the woods after they'd come to the decision to end their marriage. Eventually it came down Lorna crying about missing Nicky a little too much than usual and Vinny's parents twating him over the head for impregnating a chick in prison, leading him to confess he doesn't know if he can handle the responsibility. He wasn't scared of it; just worried he'd screw up and it's not like Nicky could argue about that matter of fact. She's hardly the poster child of success and responsibility herself. It's somewhat honorable and praiseworthy, the fact that he's willing to stick around to support the two and raise his kid; even if it's at a distance, despite his discomfort about the matter. It's a better effort than the sorry excuse of a father Nicky had in her life. Or technically didn't.

* * *

 **Sent to:** Vinny

Yea. tnx.

 **Received:** _4:26AM_

* * *

Eventually, she brings herself from the burrow she's dug herself within. Leaving the room, she can grasp the weight of helicopters and dizzy spells phasing and shifting around her echoing head. The sound of her heartbeat thumping at the far corner of her skull and cramps slither up the back of her neck and thighs. It's safe to say she never wants to drink again. Crawling up the stairs, Nicky finds her way to their room she found herself kicked out of. Lorna didn't need to say it. The door creaks open quietly and Nicky lands her gaze upon the woman curled on her side, still in her silk gown, with Lexi snoozing by her side in the pitch dark. Nicky finds it difficult to identify if she's just sulking or sleeping or both. Nonetheless, it's a flattering sight that causes Nicky's heart to flutter uncertainty. She switches the bedroom light on and shifts closer towards the bed, hesitantly, stumbling to find her words when Lorna doesn't move position. Deciding to break the silence and much as her own voice, she declares _"Look. I'm... I'm really sorry, okay? I just..."_ Nicky stops in her tracks, realizing how hesitant she sounds. _"I didn't understand why you were so mad. I mean, I do my best for you Lorna. Surely, you know that. And then I... I go out one night with Vause and Chapman and I know I told you'd call, and I was late, and I'm sorry, really, but-"_

 _"I'm not mad about that. You told me you'd be home by eleven, so that before work tomorrow you'd come with me to the scan to find out the sex. But you forgot, didn't you? And... I wanted you to come. And Vinny'll be at work and now I gotta go on my own because he's busy and you'll be hungover."_ Lorna cuts her off in a mumble, sounding as if she's only just on the verge finishing crying. That or she's just got a really snotty nose.

 _'Fuck. Fuck, fuuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit.'_

Nicky moves closer, now Lorna gives her full attention. _"I'll still go with you, babe. I will. You really think this doesn't matter to me? Holy shit, does it ever? I know how much this means to you. To us. I don't care how fucked I am tomorrow. I am dragging myself out of that bed and going with you. I'm sorry I let you down, Lorna. Now can I please get into our bed?"_ Nicky pleads, emphasizing the word our. A desperate plea to be forgiven. She can't live locked out of those gates forever. Lorna sighs in defeat, swallowing the lump present in her throat. _"Christopher's the only-"_

 _"Yeah, yeah, I know. I was an asshole, I didn't mean it. Really."_ Lorna holds a beat before continuing. _"Sorry I been such and dick. I know you're doin' real well with your sobriety. It's just this baby and I'm fucking scared and what if I'm a shitty mom and, and-"_

 _"Hey, no, stop, stop, stop."_ Nicky hushes, sitting herself of the bed next to the awakening pet and pulling Lorna closely. She breathes and runs a hand across the silk of her gown to where her bloating womb lies behind. _"Why didn't you tell me you were feeling this way. Look - you're gonna be a great mom, okay. I'm not saying it'll be easy but we can make it work, how many times I gotta tell you?"_ Lorna stares while Nicky brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. She leans in to press a kiss on her nose, then the exposed skin of her stomach. Lorna sniffs, smiling with watery eyes. _"You really called Vinny about this?"_

 _"I'm sorry."_ She sulks in her drying tears. Again, Nicky feels like she's witnessing and comforting a child, rather than a mother. _"You actually gonna come with me?"_

 _"Yeah - course. All the way."_ She lowers down on the duvet, bringing herself closer to Lorna. _"You got the helicopters, don't you?"_ Lorna taunts. That's how they refer to the sickness sensation after drinking. She grumbles, burying her head in the pillow on her share of the bed. Lorna withholds a laugh, curling her lips, she leans down to press a kiss on her temple. _"Piper n' CO. send their love."_

 _"I'll call em tomorrow. Tell them I'm sorry I didn't make it. I'll come next time. You need me to call Red, say you're not going in?"_ She yawns, covering her mouth. _"Nah, Lorna's it's like nearly quarter to five in the morning. My fault, I admit. She won't be awake. But get some sleep, I'll tell her myself tomorrow."_

 _"It kicked a lot today."_ Lorna refers down to where her hand lies. _"Well, then, we got ourselves a little soccer player, huh?"_

 _"I bet it's a boy."_ She grins and Nicky finds herself floating in her ideologies; unsure if it's real feeling or just the dizzy spells casting around her mind. _"Girls can be fucking great soccer players too, y'know. I bet you fuckin' ten dollars, it's a girl. See, this little smart ass is just trying to trick you. I guess we'll have to wait n' see."_

 _"Deal. You really gonna sleep in all your clothes?"_ Lorna beams; running a hand through the strands of Nicky's hair. She chuckles unerringly; face still burred in the pillow. _"Why? Is that a suggestion? Maybe if my head wasn't banging like a shit house and I didn't have cramps in my legs."_

 _"Shut up."_ Lorna elbows her in the ribs gently, before pulling to her side. _"Love you."_ She whispers, before shutting off the light and closing her eyes, leaving the darkness to surround the room. There is nothing better than sleeping in the dark, in Nicky's mind. _"Yeah, love you too."_ And with that, she reminds herself that everything is and will be alright, still.

* * *

 **Send to:** Vinny

It's a girl. Nicky's really happy cuz I owe her 10 bux...

 **Received:** _14:11PM_

* * *

 **Sent to:** Lorna

Holy shit that's awesome. Sorry i couldn't make it. I'll come round tomorrow. Don't let the guard dog attack me ;) X

 **Received:** _14:12PM_

* * *

 **Sent to:** Vinny

we're having a barbecue at piper's on friday to celebrate, come. don't worry. Lex won't come for u. Nicky says to watch out for her, tho. x

 **Received:** _14:17PM_


End file.
